The end of summer has come and the happiness of the Italian is now defunct. Between ups and downs he has faced it and now he asks himself “but what this boorish action is?”: From the unicorn-shaped dinghies to the government went dows as the Titanic, he would just not think about tomorrow anymore. Yet at work he must return and the phases of mourning from the end of the summer must touch him.
Once back home and put down the suitcase, the Italian looks at the costumes with greed. What harm would there be, he thinks, to feel that fabric on his skin and to think about what he experienced? So he puts on his costume and remembers the trip to the river. He also wears flip-flops and savors a mojito again. On his sofa he sprawls and becomes detached from reality: there are still a couple of days to go back to work, he must enjoy the last moments of gold. His full-blown playlist of summer hits is made and his neighbor puts his cotton wool in desperate ears. He seems to be still on vacation and there is reluctance in his head. But the next phase approaches threatening and will surely be painful.
2) Plea deal with yourself
The bad Monday has arrived and the Italian is sulky. He is going to work and the gallows is waiting for him. His head meanwhile racked his brains on the holiday so beautiful and begins to think, as he walks, that he would like to do a dozen more. If he could go back a few days at least, he would enjoy everything much more fully. Every step towards his desk becomes a real agony but by now he has understood that the memory is faded. Not lost forever, but sadly immensely.
When he arrives in the office sadly, his boss is not at all condescending. The Italian is overwhelmed, the practices have been buried. Only a hand can be seen in the middle of the papers and documents and its strengths are unfortunately unsatisfactory. But how can this have happened? Look at the photos like a madman and he doesn’t understand why the holiday is over and has escaped his hands. He suddenly gets angry and all his colleagues start to tell unhealthily: “I arrived at the Infernaccio Gorges and I passed through Bologna. The tortilla de patatas in Palma de Mallorca I tasted and then to Brighton I flew. You have not visited them, you fools, you should be more educated! You know nothing about the world, you are a latent Jon Snow.“ He decides to leave angry but at least from that satisfied outburst.
A sense of emptiness has assailed the Italian, getting angry has been vain: nothing is done about the anger and all his last strengths cancel. Exhausted and lacking in strength, take stock of kleenex. Back home, slowly, dragging your feet sadly. Lower the shutters, and remain immobile. He bursts into tears without end and is prone to suicide. To save oneself, one is filled with ice cream and vents all the pain he has accumulated. He cries like when Romanzo Criminale has ended, in an evident confusional state. Finally he starts to sleep peacefully and lets out a few tears.
5) Acceptance: the countdown
The Italian woke up, he is a bit confused. By now he has understood that one cannot go back, it is better for him to rationalize. The 2k19 summer is over and we return to the old life. A thought, however, in him makes his way, more captivating than Prada’s shoes, and smiles slyly in the mirror in his reflection, finding confidence in himself. He winks winking and is happily returning. What a wonderful news we remembered, so now it’s ecstatic again. 110 days left until Christmas and it’s official! Hunt the Santa costume and wear it, hang the red garland on the door. Jingle Bells is singing happy by the way, madness now at the mercy.